an anthology of endeavors
theme

a small piece of the story.

we were children:

drenched in a world of basketball games, scrawny limbs, calling names, knee scabs and band-aids, treasure hunts, and make-believe worlds

Enthralled to be alive, curious about why cats hate dogs

and what it’s like to be married (married at 16 or married at 25?), have a job where

all you seem to do is type words and numbers on your laptop.

We were enthralled by music, by moving images of a teenage psychic

on a black-and-grey box

As if they were layers of a chocolate molten lava cake: a metaphor for life?

You were the vanilla ice cream topping of my grade-school soul.

we grew:

carefully placing building blocks of feelings and memories (outgrowing legos), a vignette of thoughts and memories of passing on secrets, reading books, falling in love, a series of self-discoveries washing us from one ego to the next.

Cerebral quests, and still curious

about how people fall in love, or why they hate

jumping from one lover to the next, suspended between destinations, continents, fuming wafts of perfumes, paying rent and 

having brunch, reading George Orwell and re-reading scripture

wondering who God is, and why we are alive

Still enthralled, but I forgot (about you?)

Look around

surrounded by nature, surrounded by newspapers and existentialism and art and the daunting prospect

of paying taxes and puffing up lists of accomplishments

We passed each other, we passed the time of day, we proceeded: I only attempted (from you?), convincing myself I succeeded.

I walk        I dance         I envy beautiful people        I drink coffee      schmear bagels             lit nicotine sticks (invitation for death, they say: he RSVPd “yes”)          I inhale fumes, perfumes, morning dew

and release an exhale heavy with

thoughts of

you

Look around.

where do I go from here?



Copyright © Imana Gunawan 

Bangs+undercut.

Current obsessions: a poetry book, a journalism-themed nonfiction, a choreographer’s diary, and a Wes Anderson favorite.

Current obsessions: a poetry book, a journalism-themed nonfiction, a choreographer’s diary, and a Wes Anderson favorite.

You should follow me on Instagram

I post random shit and the occasional outfit posts, so if you’re into that stuff, go for it. @imythecat 

Hi.

Hi.

the tirades of a young adult - viii: don’t shoot the label-maker.

Hullo mortals!

It’s finally Spring Break people, which for me is a little piece of heaven because I get to take a breather and do some leisure writing! (Cheers! Confetti! Fireworks!)

Before I start preaching on this page, I do want to share some happy news with whomever is reading this right now: I got casted for the UW Dance Department MFA concert! (More cheers! More confetti! More fireworks!!) Basically, the MFA concert is where the grad students in the dance department get to choreograph their own pieces and the undergraduate students get to dance them. After a not-so-encouraging audition process (to be honest it’s not that I screwed up my audition, it’s just that the others were so good), I was jumping for joy (only in my head though) when I saw my name on the cast list. I was basically all smiles for the rest of the day. Now, obligatory life update aside, let’s try to weave this news in smoothly with what I’m really trying to say in this post.

Two weeks ago, I had my first rehearsal with my choreographer Natalie, and she was just the darlingest person ever. For our first exercise, the dancers had to create gestures that depict how we view various aspects of our lives, such as family, childhood, education, and even things like political affiliation and religious beliefs (or lack thereof) –– of course I can’t name every little detail here, because I do want to respect Natalie’s creative process. Anyway, before we make gestures that depict how we view these things, Natalie always asked us to explain a little bit about it first. For example, I am the youngest of two children, what do I think about being the youngest? Or, I was raised as a Muslim, what do I think and how do I feel about it? Or, how do I feel about my age, or height, or my college major? These were only some examples of the things we discussed before we made our gestures about each of them.

To be honest, I loved being able to explain these aspects of my life, and I think the other dancers do too –– though I don’t know if we love it because of the same reasons or not, but we still enjoyed it. For me, I loved being able to explain myself, because not only do I get to talk about myself (don’t you look at me that way, just admit that deep down everyone loves to talk about themselves ok. We’re egotistic, it’s human nature, deal with it), but I get to explain it in my own terms, therefore challenging whatever pre-existing judgments or stereotypes there might be of these various aspects. For example, there’s always a pre-existing judgement for the youngest child, for the Muslim or for the Atheist, for the 18-year-old or the 23-year-old, for the liberal arts majors or the STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) majors, for the liberals or the conservatives. These pre-existing judgments are usually summarized in one word: a label. These labels then put a person’s characteristics into defined categories, putting a person’s complexities into a discernible order. 

The truth is, humans are programmed to arrange things in the world into categories; it is how we make sense of the world. Labels make it easier for us to give order to the seemingly chaotic world. It helps us remember categories, and what those categories stand for. Throughout all aspects of life, there is always a constant need for a set definition –– are they men or women? Are we lovers or friends? Is she a classical music junkie or a hardcore scene kid? Is he a jock or a science brainiac? Do they like boys or girls? As my dance mentor Amy O’Neal said, “humans are scared of ambiguity –– they’re scared of the unknown.” I think truer words were never spoken. Because of this fear of ambiguity, we always rely on labels to define something, anything, everything. However, more often than not, we forget that we as humans are complex (or we forget that other people are just as complex as ourselves; a case of Us vs Them). All of us require more than a single word to define who we are as a person. In Natalie’s exercise, all the dancers in her piece who participated explained all the aspects of their lives, and that explanation is never just one sentence, let alone a single word. By being able to explain ourselves, we get to explain ourselves in our own terms in relation to these labels and these categories, therefore making really clear who we really are.

So yes, labels are useful and necessary to make sense of the world around us. But it is just as necessary to remember than no human can ever be defined by a label consisting of one word. We as humans are never just a single word, we are public libraries filled with volumes of novels and encyclopedias. Our stories are rich, intricate, and textured, so much so that no word can ever do it justice –– no matter how appropriate that word might be to a person’s specific characteristic. We should never define another human being by a label, nor should we ever let a label define us. Labels are a shortcut, a timesaver, an easy way out. But despite it’s easiness, never forget that for every shortcut we take to define a person, there is always a longer, richer, more scenic route to take –– an infinitely rich and beautiful explanation that aptly shows a person for who they truly are.

 

xx

-i

 

the night I got my instant camera back out, one well-spent with my housemates!

11/10/12-11/11/12

Expectation: doing my reading assignment for my History of Early Greece capstone essay // Reality: …the photos are self-explanatory.

I remember I was supposed to go to a party that night, but decided to stay in and pretended I’m a bug instead…for no apparent reason.

I remember I was supposed to go to a party that night, but decided to stay in and pretended I’m a bug instead…for no apparent reason.